Too late (to aplogize)
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: Spoilers for My Blue Haven/609- When Jane reappears in Lisbon's life, he thinks that everything can go back to what it used to be before he left. But how can she trust him after so long and after so many lies? Getting back on track isn't easy, it will take time and patience; if he wants her back in his life he'll have to rebuilt the trust he has lost, and the hopes he has crashed.
1. Too late (to apologize)

It had taken her over two years, not to get her life_, any life_ back, but to get any kind of control over it. She had fought too much, she had lost herself, and now she was only tired. She wanted to just exist, go through the motions, the routine. It doesn't matter how much she had wanted it back then, now it wasn't the time, it was too late. She didn't want to live. She wanted to exist. But his mere presence there threatened her frail equilibrium. He had shattered her, broken her too many times to count. One more time, and she would be lost forever, gone. Dead.

She couldn't handle it any longer- couldn't handle _him _any longer.

He had left her that day without a word, without an explanation. Not a goodbye, not a caress, a hug… the kiss she had dreamt about longer than she cared to admit. She had tried to look for him, at the start, but when she didn't found him, she knew the truth: he didn't want to get found. Not even by her.

At least, at first she had the nightmare to remember her she was human, she was still alive. Now she didn't have them any longer- just a glass of alcohol and two sleeping pills, and no dreams. No dreams of her. Of him. Of the children she had wanted in her life- and those ones were probably worse than the most terrible nightmare she could have had. (Did she really tell Greg she was in a happy place? Was she really that stupid, infatuated by his look and his words, so easily manipulated?)

"Teresa…" he whispered her name- her given name- and she didn't know if cry or laugh. She could count on one hand the number of times he had called her Teresa in over ten years. And her had always done so for a reason and a reason alone: manipulating her.

She may be stupid, but not that much. And if he thought she was going to fall for this one as well…

She shook her head, laughing a little, of herself, of how he had dared to show up after so long at her doorstep, and she didn't need to tell him it was too late. (He saw it in her face).

And yet, when she closed the door leaving him behind it, Jane still sat on the stairs, hoping that the pouring rain will erase his sins- and convince him to forgive him one last time.

Because this time, it would be different.


	2. Sucker Punch

A/N: As I answered to a review, I realized that there could be so much more to this fic than just one chapter. So, here it is. It will no be something too epic- just 4 or 5 chapters- and I will try my best to end it before My blue haven will air, so that it will not be too much of an AU. Thanks for the people who put this on alert and favorite- and thanks also to my guest reviewers. Anything else to say? Don't think so. But, well... just remember. I don't know this guys. I wish I did, but there is no such a thing as this.

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Lisbon cried herself to sleep that night, not in her bed, but on her knees, curled with her back against her front door. She didn't realize it until the morning, when the radio started playing at high volume a rock station to help her starting the day, like any other day. She realized that she hadn't slept that much- Jane had knocked at her door when it was well past midnight- and it added to the discomfort of the position. Her back hurt so much she didn't understand where the pain started and where it ended, and she was shivering. Note to self: she needed more than a t-shirt and pajama pants. Especially if she planned to sleep on the floor. Amazing: two years and she hadn't learnt her lesson yet. But after all, she had worked with Jane for over ten years, and she had kept doing the same mistakes again and again.

She groaned, running her fingers through her dark short hair, and felt a rush of nausea hit her- probably the result of the mix of too many glasses of alcohol, sleeping pills, too much coffee, too little real food, and, of course, _Patrick Jane_. The stress didn't really have anything to do with her job. She had gotten used to it. Small town sheriff meant she didn't have to do with murders and big time politicians. Little towns were like that. Everybody knew everybody, and she was probably the only one at the station doing only one job, if not in town; the major owned (and worked at) the grocery store, her deputy moonlighted as a photographer in the weekends, the crime scene investigator was the middle school's science teacher (and his lab was, indeed, the school's lab) and if, and _when_, they needed a coroner, the honor fell on dr. Breeland, the town's semi-retired doctor. Her life was very different from what she had been living in California, her reality was more or less the one of Angela Lansbury/Jessica Fletcher in _Murder, she wrote_- minus the murders, of course.

Maybe she hadn't come to fully like this life, but she could accept it. It was better than the alternative-aka no job at all. As she had tried to explain-without words- to Jane few hour earlier, she was… existing. And she was cool with it. A mere existence couldn't make empty promises. Couldn't break her heart. Couldn't use and then abandon her- just like Jane, and just like the system did back in California.

Her stomach made a sound, and nausea hit again. So, no coffee that morning, and maybe, for once, a real meal. Despite the fact that she didn't know if she could stomach eating. Not when, every time she stopped to think, she saw Jane's defeated expression right before her eyes. She knew what she had done to him wasn't right- but neither was what _he_ had done to her; even if she had been the one begging him to run. It was stupid and irrational, and even childish on some level, but she was mad at him because… not because he had escaped. But because he had escaped _without_ her. What kind of life did he thought she was going to have? Did he really thought she was going to keep her job and be an hero? Because if he did, he was even stupider than what she thought.

The cold shower warmed her up, and the warm air gave her back some semblance of energy. She felt reinvigorated, and the aroma of musk from the shampoo helped her to calm down. The rain had almost stopped, it was just now that soft beat, slow and gentle, that she liked to walk underneath. Other people eat snowflakes, she drank raindrops- other people had probably never been at Chicago in winter, she guessed.

She got dressed, and she felt a little pride, going with a little pain, in putting her gun in the holster- some things couldn't change, they hadn't been able to take this away from her, at least – and then strolled downstairs. She wondered if she had to give a call to Magda, the owner of the local café, to tell her she needed a real breakfast for once, but then, when she opened the front door, a heavy, dead weight fell on her feet, rolling almost comically inside. She lifted her eyebrows at crossed arms- a so common pose for her- and looked at Jane, drenched, slowly waking up.

"Uhm… Hey. Good morning?" he asked. She almost laughed- the man was looking at her a bit scared, and yet amused. He probably thought she was going to hit him. Which she should have done. Few hours earlier he had showed up at her front door saying just her name, and now he was stalking her and he dared to find it funny?

What a nerve. Well… if he thought she was going to pity him, he was wrong. It was the last thing he deserved. The bastard.

"I am late for work." She said, coldly, no trace of any feeling in her. He had taken away the love and the warmth a long time before, and in the last two years she had gone through so much that she just couldn't feel any longer-not even hate. Like she had said before-she just existed. And it was because of _him_.

"Ok. I can wait for you back here. Can I make myself at home?" he asked, sitting cross-legged before the door.

She closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose- and she didn't need to see Jane to know he was smirking because, despite everything, few things couldn't change- and on some level, she knew him. "Jane… I am telling you I am going to work because I want you to walk through the door. I am not inviting you in. I am telling you to leave. As in, now."

He smirked. The damn bastard was smirking, and she hated him for that. He wasn't supposed to, and besides, did he really think she was such a stupid? She had seen him twelve years before. She had seen him few hours earlier. She knew he was broken and hurt. And she knew that whenever he felt broken and hurt, he put on his best façade, like right now. Was she supposed to feel bad, and guilty, for this? Yes. Did she? No.

"C'mon, Lisbon, of course you can't invite me in. I am already _in_." Technicalities, she thought closing her fists. It was always with those that he tried to get away. Every damn time.

She grunted-which made him grin- and then she left. "You know what? Do as you please, but if when I come back you are still there, I will call my deputy and see what you think about breaking and entering!" she tried to slam the door in his face yet again- this time from the outside- but he stopped it before it could close, and he strolled past her, hitting her with his elbow as he was at her side. When she reached her car, he was already leaning against the passenger side, ready to seat at her side. "As I can't wait for you at your place, can I at least join you?"

"Don't you a dare…" she simply said, a finger pointed in accusation at him. He had caused enough problems in California for her. Elections for the seat of sheriff were getting closer and closer, and if she wanted to be elected, she had to make sure people could trust her. And with Jane around, only mayhem could follow. Rolling her eyes, she dug into her pockets just to come empty-handed. She grunted again, she was so furious when she lifted her eyes towards Jane that she was almost literally fuming. And here he was, the smirking bastard, sing-songing and showing off that he hadn't lost his con-man/thief touch. Well, if he thought she was going to ride with him in the car just because he had her keys, he was wrong. Old Teresa would have allowed it, but this was Sheriff Lisbon. And she was pissed off- royally- with Patrick Jane.

She smirked in return, and proud and sure of herself, she started to walk in direction of the street. There wasn't a lot of traffic, and she didn't live in town, but there were a couple of regulars that lived close by, and that made that same road every day. She heard Jane calling her back, telling her to stop being childish (she didn't want to reflect on the irony if the situation) but she kept walking on the side of the road. Few minutes later, when her former consultant understood she wasn't going to give in, he decided to drive the car himself- the huge kind of monstrosity she had always loved- and he reached her. He lowered the window, going at a man's step, and tried to talk her into accepting a lift- in her own car. But she acted like he wasn't even there.

"C'mon, Lisbon, please. Just get in the car, will you?" But she didn't even answer him. She kept looking on, pretending to be carefree. Which she obviously wasn't. "No? Ok, then I will ride the whole way to town at your side. Just like that." She chuckled. That was am empty treat. What, he thought she was going to beg him to avoid traffic? Because if he looked around, he would have seen there wasn't any. They had walked for over fifteen minutes, and the first car was arriving just in that moment.

"Sheriff? Ma'am? You need a lift?" she tuned, and saw Earl Montgomery, the owner of the auto-repair. An old man who, despite being ready for the pension, preferred to keep working-mostly, because his sons had refused to follow in his footsteps, and without him, the business would end once and for all. He was a good man, full of respect, who didn't ask too many questions. Something she got to appreciate after… well, Jane and his debacle.

"Oh, of course! Thank you very much, Earl!" she smiled- and Jane wanted to kill both her and the old man, for she hadn't smiled at him like that yet- and quickly she sat in the passenger's seat. "Jane? I want my car back at my place. Walk back to the train station, call a bus, a taxi, see if I care. Just be gone when I'm back."

She slammed the door once again, and although he couldn't hear her- and he refused to try to read her lips- she was smiling, busy talking with the man. Just what he needed, Lisbon's attention taken away from that old guy. But if she thought he was going to stop at this, she didn't remember him very well. Hadn't he look for over ten years for Red John just to end him like he had always said? He was resolute, and he didn't mind time. Of course, he already had a plan B in case she didn't relent, but he really hoped it wasn't going to come to that. He hated to give himself away by repeating a plan or a trick, and, as much as easily done this plan was, it would also be quite painful. But after all, he was a firm believer that extremes evils called for extreme measures.

He gave "Earl" and Lisbon a little advantage, then he went to town too. With his luck, the police station- or sheriff office, or whatever they called that hole- would be the main attraction. How hard could it be to find it, right? And in fact, here it was, in broad daylight -he would have to be blind and deaf and idiot to miss it.

He parked the car in Lisbon's place- it was _her car _after all – and then entered. There was no trace of Earl or his car, and he wondered if Teresa was already there. Who knew? Maybe now she really did social and he didn't got it at first sight. A deputy- probably _the deputy –_walked toward him. Young, he was the huge, brotherly kind of man, the type of person he used to hide from under Lisbon's skirt all the time when they worked together. "N. Smithson" seemed also angry and stressed- lack of sleep of sex because of a newborn baby- and also the kind of man that, when mad at someone, he took it out on that someone. (He hoped that Lisbon hadn't talked about him with guy. Otherwise, he was as good as dead. Even if it was something that could help bring plan b in motion. Just like a last resort, though. )

"What are you doing still here, Jane?" She sounded suddenly weak and tired, and Jane felt hit by sudden guilt- of a new kind. He had thought he was doing the right thing – for her- by staying away, but then the FBI and Cho had told him of what the FBI and California had done to her. He had asked around, and he had believed her to be unhappy and unsatisfied. The night before, he had looked into her once bright green eyes, and had seen that the light was gone. She had been defeated by life, and he had decided to get her back- to give her back what she had wrongfully lost because of him. Now, he wasn't so sure he wanted to fight that battle any longer. maybe they were all wrong and she was better off here.

"I just want to talk with you, Lisbon." He simply told her, suddenly sad and tired too. She looked at him for the first time. Jane was now 46, if her math was right- and it was, she knew the man inside out, after all- but he looked way older. The two years in South America, instead of giving him peace and closure had been apparently a torment. She guessed that there were things that could never change, and that Jane could never exist without grief and guilt.

"There is nothing to talk about, Jane. You are back, and apparently cleared of all your crimes. And I ended up here. That's all." She shook her head, and walked past him, ready to enter in her office and ask Nate to escort Jane out of town, when her former consultant grabbed her wrist and forced her to turn and face him. She gasped: how many times had he been that daring during their partnership, so physical? She couldn't even remember.

"Please, Teresa, I need you to…" and that was what did her. His words. He needed her. He was asking for something from her. Like always. Because he was just a self-centered asshole without a care left in the world. Because it all always been about him- and it still was. He wasn't even wondering what she needed right now. He had never done. She had offered him her hand that day, when they had met 12 years prior, and since then, he had always taken, and taken and taken. And she had left him, willingly and knowingly. She had allowed him to take her heart away and break it. It was all because of him. And he thought she was going to fall for his sweet words once more?

No more.

She hit on the nose as hard as she could, so hard that Jane fell back, his lower back colliding with the hard floor of the station. She saw that blood was starting to flow from his injured nose, and she gasped, going to his side. She wanted to go and help him, but when she kneeled at his side, she saw that he was smirking. And a sense of deja-vù hit her full force. Twelve years prior, at the CBI, her subordinate hitting Jane on the nose. And Jane getting whatever he wanted just to shout the hell up about what had happened.

"Deputy Smithson? I would like to report an abuse of power perpetuated by Sheriff Lisbon." he said, smiling devilishly with his hand still on his nose. He wasn't talking totally normal, but it was easy to get the words. Then, he turned to look at Teresa- the woman who was scared to lose the incoming elections- and looked at her proud of himself, like he had done so many times when they were partners in crime (and after all, plan B had just worked out). "Well, of course, I could change my mind if Sheriff Lisbon could agree to have breakfast with me and hear me out."

She sighed, and walked towards the exit, Jane in tow. After all, it wasn't like she had any choice. And how bad could it be? He wanted for her to be there before him. She wasn't even going to listen to him-she was going to fake it.

Like he had always done with her.


	3. Mercy

A/N:Thanks again for the reviews, the favorites and the alerts. I hope you'll keep following this, and I hope that I will be able to end this before next episode- even if I doubt. Somehow, there seems to be always more to say, and after a chapter, I have idea for other two and etc and etc...

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"Magda, my dear, I desperately need to get the recipe of these eggs. I don't think there is a word on this Earth to describe them…" Jane hummed in pleasure, moaning at closed eyes as Magda was serving him her eggs- for the second time. Lisbon was struggling with the desire to kill him on the spot, and Magda was looking at her with a "tsk, tsk, young lady, no-no" printed on her face in cubical letters. She couldn't believe that the jackass had the old lady eating from his palm already. And she was passing as the bad girl here, like it was her fault. Apparently, the fact that she was the one left after hurricane Jane passed hadn't changed at all.

"Oh, Phil, isn't it sweet? Long lost lovers reunited after such a long time…" Magda, still serving coffee at their table, turned to look at her husband, the cynic Phil O'Malley, who grunted in response. In that moment, he was her favorite person in the whole universe.

"Mr. Jane was only a coworker back in California, Magda. In fact, when I met him, he was in a long-term relationship. And he wasn't the kind of man to have affairs behind his love's back." She looked at Jane smirking , hoping that he would get the message and understand what she was talking about. Because, right now, after she had time to think, and had faced the naked reality, she had gotten to understand that Jane had been in a sordid and twisted kind of relationship with Red John. She hadn't even been second best for him. She had been a means to an end, or, best case scenario, a pastime. No matter what he was going to tell her: she wasn't going to believe that he had been in love with her. That her feelings had been reciprocated.

Magda suddenly felt like she was intruding, and, uneasy, left the two of them alone; Teresa tried to swallow some food, but every time she tried, bile would rise up. She decided that enough was enough, and it was all Jane's fault. It was time for her former consultant to cut the crap and get it done. She pushed aside the semi-filled plate, and, crossing her arms on the tablecloth, she looked at him. "You wanted to talk to me. here I am. _Talk." _She ordered.

"But it will get cold…" he shined like a kid, and in response, she moved away his plate as well. She was facing him, daring to open his mouth. His nose was still swollen, and there were drops of blood on his brand new white shirt. She looked at him again, for real, just like she had done when he had presented himself at her doorstep, and saw how changed he was. Jane looked older, he was still filled by guilt and pain- she guessed there was no way for him to exist without them- but, at least on a physical level, he seemed good. He seemed to be still in good shape (something that had always amazed her, given the amount of time he spent on his couch), his hair was still blond, and even his clothes-despite being drenched by the rain and blood-stained- were newer, better suited for him. Maybe not the flashy clothes she saw him wearing in pictures from his psych days, but definitely better. Hell-even the shoes were new.

She couldn't believe it. She was mad because Patrick Jane got to wear new clothes. Well, also mad. This simply was the last proverbial clothes. Because, frankly, it wasn't right. He had killed-_twice_- and he got away free. If he was there, she guessed his record had been cleared for Red John's murder, and he even got to go shopping. Spending the money he had conned out of people, probably. Who knew, maybe he was a con-man again. Maybe it was how he had gotten his record cleared. And she? She lost her job and had to become the sheriff of Forsaken-by-God town because no one else wanted to give her a job. She lost her team, the CBI, her credibility, she didn't remember the last time she had gone to shopping and she had more white hair than two years before. No, it wasn't fair.

And his only problem were the eggs? Screw him.

"Jane, I have budget reviews this afternoon, and I still have to look at some paperwork. So, if you are done wasting my time…" she tried to look like she had never done with him- utterly professional- and kept firing lasers at him with her eyes. She hoped he understood it. And if he believed she was going to actually listen to him, he was dreaming. He said that he wanted to talk. Nobody had said anything about her actually listening to his antics.

"Ok" he said, and took a big breath. She felt he was uneasy, and she wondered if it was because he was dropping the act, or if it was part of the act as well. Part of her desperately wanted to be the old Teresa Lisbon, the one who wanted to be close to him, help him, _believe him. _But she didn't know if it was still possible. There was an old saying about too much water passing underneath the bridge- and she guessed it was her case.

"So… how are you doing?" he asked, his voice low, his smile tired. She closed her eyes and willed the tears away, shaking her head. No, she wasn't going to fall for his act again. She wasn't going to allow him to distract her, lure her in with sweet words and promises that sooner rather than later will be empty.

"Jane, please, just tell me why you are here." She sighed, tired. She didn't have any strength left. She had no will- he had taken it away, together with everything, two years before. And now here he was, back, rubbing salt in a wound that had never fully healed. Why couldn't he see it, that he was just hurting her, by being there? Why, why had he returned? He should have stayed in South America, far away from her eyes. Far away from her hearth.

"You remember Abbott?" She wondered if Jane knew what he was talking about, and if he did – which she was sure of- how he could be so cold and casual about this. Yes, she remembered Abbott. He was the one who had fired her, after all. Fired her whole team- but getting jobs in the FBI for Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt. She, instead, hadn't deserved such a treatment. Jane was a killer, a wanted criminal. Someone had to be blamed, someone had to pay. And she had been his handler. The others were just agents- they had the excuse that they took orders. She didn't have that luxury- and even if she did, her boss was part of a conspiracy, so, really, she had been lucky to get away with a clean record after the whole mess. She had lost her reputation, but who knew. Maybe in time she could get it back.

"Anyway…" Jane continued, interlacing his fingers and looking at them. He had paused a bit- he probably knew that she wasn't exactly on best friends term with the FBI Agent. "Two members of his freshly appointed Sacramento office approached me few weeks back in my humble alcove. Kim Fisher- I don't know if you have met her yet- and our dear old Cho. They asked me to come back- they would clean my record if I accepted to help them with a certain case."

"The Blake society or Visualize?" She hadn't heard anything about it, but it made sense that it was one of them. She couldn't see any other reason they would call Jane back- and clear his record, on top of that. They knew that it was impossible that they had taken every member of the Society in, and Visualize had taken an hit too. The Cult wasn't as powerful and known as before because of its connection with the Society, but it was still shady. No reason to believe that there weren't any black sheep in their midst.

Jane didn't answered- he scratched the back of his head, and looked at the sides, and then he returned his focus on the tablecloth. _Classic move_, she thought snorting. "Well, I closed the case" he said with pride, like it was new, or part of a personal record. "Abbott liked what I did. Offered me a position. But, there's a "but". Fisher doesn't like me, and Cho knows me too well to accept being my handler."

His hand moved toward her, and he tried to take her hands, but she put them in her laps. She clenched her eyes, sighing. The breath died in her throat, and she wondered if it was how a panic attack felt like. It wasn't possible. He couldn't be that egoistical. He had said that he loved her. Swore to save and protect her. And after failing to keep all those promises, after having broken her, he dared to ask her _this?_ No. It was just impossible. Even Jane wasn't such a bad person. She whispered _no, no, no_. Maybe, if he didn't say it at loud, it wouldn't be true.

"I told them I would accept… but only if they were to take you back too."

"Jane, no.." she cried, shaking her head. She couldn't look at him. She didn't have the strength any longer. "Please. Don't ask me this." She knew herself. Even after all these years, even after everything, if he asked… she would say yes. Would accept to be lied to, used, and then abandoned by him. Like it had always been before, with any other man in her life. One more time, it would be her downfall. Not just the dark existence she had fallen victim to, but certain death, she knew it as a fact. She had survived Jane's touch once, but a second time would be her end. A sweet death- but death nevertheless. A fate she would walk towards on her own accord. Because of a single word uttered by his lips. _Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me._

He took a big breath, and took two plane ticket from his jacket; she could see her name on one of them. It was open- no date on it yet- and she saw how reluctant he was to give it to her. Did he really thought that she was going to walk away with him, like nothing had happened at all? Like he hadn't been away for over two years? She snorted-nothing had changed at all. He still refused to take full responsibility for his actions. She still paid because of them. And he still thought she was ok with that. But after all, hadn't she been the one to tell him once that she knew he would have gotten her fired, eventually? Well, she had been right- and to allow something like that to happen again, to put herself in the same situation, it would be madness. _Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results. _

"I understand why you don't want to see me, and if you'll not accept to follow me back to Sacramento." He told her, so quietly it was a miracle she could hear him at all. She wondered if he really was sad because she didn't trust him any longer, or it was all an act to get her trust back in the first place. "The ticket is open. You have six months to use it. Just, take time to come and talk with Abbott. See what he has to tell you." He paused, and for the first time he lifted his eyes from the tablecloth, and their gazes met. He was the same hunted man he had been when they had met a long time before, broken-hearted and looking for something to fill his life.

With his next word, she came undone like a torn ribbon. "Please."

She hated him. hated him like she had never done before, more than the man who had murdered her mother, than her own father, than Red John. She hated him because he still knew how to play her, what buttons he was supposed to push to get whatever he wanted.

She tore the ticket from his hand, and sniffing she fled the diner; she allowed herself to cry real tear, to sob and let it all out only when she was alone in the privacy and security of her office, the blinds closed like she had done so many times when she worked at the CBI and she was a senior agent in charge of her own unit.

And yet, even if she knew this all, even if she remembered every broken promises, and the pain had never gotten away…

…She knew that sooner or later she was going to talk with Abbott about his offer.


	4. Prodigal

A/N:Thanks again for the reviews, the favorites and the alerts- that's what keep me motivated.

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As she walked the halls of the FBI office in Sacramento with a visitor badge around her neck, Lisbon kept repeating again and again that she wasn't there for Jane- because he had begged her to follow him, to join him in this new, and yet old, part of his life.

She closed her eyes, inspiring deeply, trying to remember everything that had happened two years before. She needed to be strong, she needed to reopen those old wounds and feel the pain anew, so strong that she had felt it like it was physical. Only like that, she would be able to say no to the only man she had ever truly loved. She sighed, trying to call back every word she had said to Jane during the years to try to talk him out of killing Red John. They weren't so different, after all. Jane was obsessed with a killer who taunted him, she with a man she couldn't have and had broken her time after time.

She should have never gone there. It was a mistake.

She walked toward the elevator, and when she was going to step in, she felt a big, warm hand encircling her elbow; she gasped, and tried to think at the best offense. Was it wise? Maybe there was no danger. Or maybe, it was Jane, trying to talk to her again… he was more dangerous that a bullet to the head.

It was Cho- and it looked like he was smiling-Maybe not really-but it was the closest thing to a Cho smile. It was something rare, that he used only with the people he truly cared about, and that he was so happy and relieved to have there, it broke her heart. Not in a bad way, though; she wasn't even sure breaking was the right word to use. But she still felt a pang, a shiver running through her. Like her walls were slowly falling apart, her iced armor melting under his gaze.

She closed her eyes more firmly, like she was trying to push back the tears- but it wasn't the case. She wasn't sad, just mad, an anger so intense she felt her blood boiling. She couldn't allow people to play with her feelings and her mind like that. She had to be cool, collected, strong. She wasn't going to give in just because Jane wanted to and Cho was happy to see her there. Jane had lied to her. He had broken her. And her team, they walked away in the sunshine when everything was done and said. She alone paid the consequences of Jane's actions. Like it had always been.

"I'm glad to see you, Teresa. You look good." She snorted as his poker face came back to hide his real thoughts. She wondered if he was like any other people she had worked with, thinking she couldn't do her work, that she wasn't a good detective. Because she was. And she knew. Remembered exactly how he acted. And she was well aware that he was lying through his teeth. She didn't deny the fact that he could be glad she was there, even if she had pushed him away every time he had tried to reach out for her. But she knew she didn't look good, and his fake courtesy was like a stab, an insult to her intelligence.

"Thanks Cho, you look good too." And he did. He just looked, weird, she guessed. It was like he was a reflection of the man she used to know from the mirrors house in some carnie, the same and yet distorted. He was a little older, his hair was getting white on his temples, he had few more lines on his face, but mostly it was his look. She honestly didn't remember the last time she had seen him with a long shirt and wearing a black tie and a black suit- if he had ever done so. For her, Cho was always going to be the stoic guy with the semi-flashy ties who used only short sleeves at the office. Despite everything, she smiled- and he saw that too. Who knew, maybe there was still hope for her. Room for more than sufferance and a broken heart.

"Jane isn't here yet." He told her, and she didn't know if laugh or lift her eyebrow. Of course Jane wasn't there yet. The only times her had arrived on time back when they were with the CBI was when he used to sleep there- and even there, he often stayed locked in his attic until she didn't got him with brute force. She doubted that the FBI had an attic, or a couch, or that they allowed him to sleep there, so there was no wonder he wasn't in time. Few things couldn't change- if she was going to take this job, would he break her again and again too?

Yes, of course. He had said it himself- people who loved him, people he cared about, they got hurt. And yet, she had gotten hurt even when he was gone, first in Vegas, then when he was who knew where in South America. What was worst: suffering with him by her side, of suffering alone, lost in her darkness, her personal hell?

_Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me._

No, she wasn't going to think about this. She was there just out of courtesy- Abbott had called her too, after Jane had left, after all- and no other reason. She had already done her part in Jane's history-her role was done. _She _was done because of him, and she had to keep it in mind. But it was hard. Temptation was all around her, in Cho's smiles and secure figure, in Jane's pleas, in the good memories she had built there. Because she had many of them- so many they could almost surpass the bad ones. And yet, there was that part of her, that one that had died when he had said goodbye and walked away, that part was like a nightmare, a ghost. Like phantom pain, it remembered her of everything that had gone wrong, ordering her to walk away from her past- and the hope of a future worth living for.

She didn't know what to do any longer. Why had she come all the way back to California? She should have stayed in her little corner of world, being all right with being the sheriff of a town with less than 200 habitants and the drunken guy the only real issues. She was… going on. Jane should have never showed up at her doorstep filling her head with nonsense and stupid dreams that had no reason to be there. She could-had to walk away now, until she was in time. Turn her back on them like they had done with her. Jane would deserve it. He had taken her and destroyed her. She shouldn't be there, thinking about accepting that damn job offer.

And yet, it was exactly what she was doing. And she couldn't even say why.

"Sorry, but Abbott is waiting for me. I'll talk to you later, all right?" she put on her best fake smile, wondering if she was lying and if he was going to believe her, and entered in the elevator, Cho's hand still in the air, as he hadn't stopped keeping her yet. Like he was scared she was going to disappear, or turned out to be a vision, just a ghost from a past he couldn't get rid of-didn't want to.

Five floors- just like when she had been at the CBI- but the time didn't passed at all. She kept freezing, shivering, sweating. She was scratching the skin of her palms with her hands, her eyes fixed on the changing numbers on the digital display. 1. 2.3.4. And then, finally five. She excused herself and walked between the crowd, her head always low. She didn't want to see those people, didn't want to know if they were aware of her presence, of her identity. Did they talk about her, knew what a joke she had been? _Did you know Teresa Lisbon? She got fired because she always took her consultant's side. Because she had the hots for him. _

She announced herself to Abbott's secretary, a young woman who remembered her of Van Pelt when she started, and waited in a small, uncomfortable chair. She wondered if it was wanted. Did they wanted to make her uncomfortable? Maybe it was like when she interrogated people. Make them thirsty by offering salty snacks, then give them a lot to drink so that they'll ask for the bathroom, but then tell them no. They'll eventually be in your power. Sad, but true.

Five minutes later, Abbott left his office, his hand on the small of the back of a young woman- well, younger than her, at least. She knew the kind- the kind of woman Jane used to date, and be attracted to. Kristina, Erika, Lorelai. Was this woman Kim Fisher? Had she already fallen victim to Jane's charm?

(No. It was impossible. Nobody was as stupid as she was.)

He walked towards her, and she stood. He offered her his hand to shake, and his face was a parody of what had been two years before, when he had fired her. He was always dark, calculative. He had looked like a man who couldn't care any less about any other-especially her. Why was she supposed to believe that things had changed? He could be the same man she had met before, the one who had chosen her to be his sacrificial lamb in his crusade to put down once and for all the CBI. "Miss Lisbon, thanks for having accepted my invitation."

She lifted her chin, her eyes dark and resolute. She wasn't going to show this man how broken she was, how much she had suffered because of him. "I had to come to Sacramento anyway. It's my niece's birthday." Cool and collected. Like she had been supposed to be. Like she had never been when she was here.

(_Never show them your weakness. Be strong,_ she repeated herself. He couldn't see how broken she was_. Have to feel him humiliated. Like he did the worst mistake of his life when he kicked me when I was down. He'll regret everything_.)

"Well, in that case, I'll not waste your time. Please." He showed her in his office, his hand on the small of her back -another calculated gesture, she bet- but his touch wasn't welcomed. It was cold, like the icy hand of dead skimming over her skin. When she got to seat and part from his, she wanted to breath out of relief. She just wanted to leave, be done with it. This whole place was a temptation, the dream of returning to what she used to be. But she couldn't have any of it-she had lost too much, couldn't lose any more. She would die.

(She had to be strong. But she was so sick and tired of being strong…)

"As you may know, Mr. Jane has recently accepted to work with us. However, right now he is covering only a freelance position-which means he is basically the one calling the shots in our relationship. But, apparently…"

"No" she said before he could end the sentence. She clenched her fists in her lap. Not again. _Never_ again. "_Mr. Jane _made clear in a previous we had that one of the conditions for his permanent employment was for you to hire me. But you are right-there is no reason to waste our time. So I am telling you- I am not interested. Not under these conditions, at least." She stood, and was already by the door when he stopped her. She turned, and Abbott was standing at his desk. He was sweating, and he seemed close to a panic attack. She grinned- it felt good to have that kind of power.

(She hadn't felt that way in a long time. She had forgotten how it could be. )

"I am sorry, Agent Abbott, but I am not interested in becoming Jane's… handler, or your go-between with him." she said, gesticulating a little. She was getting stressed. She was having enough. She craved the oblivion of a bottle and some pills, knowing too well that she wouldn't go there anyway, not again. "Two years ago you took my team from me. My job. But I still have my shield, and I'm not going to lose it for you." She couldn't. it was the last thing that made her feel human, that remembered her who she had been, what she could have been. She was a cop- nobody could take that away from her. She wasn't going to renounce to the last sane part of her because of Jane.

Abbott shook his head. "I want to hire you-as in, insert you into the FBI structure. As an agent, miss Lisbon." Abbott sat, his interlacing his fingers. Here it was yet again, the same expression he had showed her before, when they had first met. She lifted her eyebrows, and came back to sit before him, crossing her legs, her hands interlaced in the same way he did- a trick she had gotten from Jane- and kept in silence. She wanted to hear him say it. She wanted to have him beg her.

(Even if he was doing it only to keep Jane.)

"Because Mr. Jane asked you to? Thanks, but no, thanks. I'm not interested in paying with my career and my job every time he screws up." She had had enough of that in the past, it was the ultimate price she paid- and, God helped her, she was pretty sure that she would do it again and again, could she get back in time. "Nor I'll be a pawn in your game to control him."

"93% of closed cases, it was the best result in the whole State, in any agency. Almost all resulting either in conviction or a plea bargain. Do you know what happened after your team disbanded? Nobody got those results. But" he paused dramatically, like a patented actor. "I want them."

She smirked again. Abbott was looking for a way to become either Senator or Governor. She knew the kind. And if he thought that better results could help him out, he wasn't considering what it meant getting those results via Jane.

"You'll be reinserted as an agent in Fisher and Cho's team, and you'd work with Mister Jane- I wouldn't mind if you were his partner, actually. You know how to handle him, and you know how talk him into doing what he does."

"I still don't see why I should accept." She stood, and she gave him her hand to shake- he made a good offer, she had to show him at least this respect. Abbott toke a big breath, and accepted her salutation. Yet, she could see the reluctance in his gaze.

"I read about you, Lisbon. We talked, back then. I know offering you a rise will not work…" She laughed. Any job would pay her better than her current one. After all, in her town nothing happened, at all. "And I suspect that even telling you that you'll get a rise _and_ a place to live wouldn't talk you into accepting this job. But I wonder, is it enough, what you have now? Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life in that… Forks? You've always wanted more, otherwise you wouldn't have bet on Jane in the first place. You wanted to help people. Gave them the closure you never got. I don't need to have Mr. Jane's talents to know this. I could make it happen again. I just need one word and a signature, and all of this will be yours. Again."

She was almost reaching for the elegant fountain pen, but then, she stopped. She wanted to do that. For the first time in two years, she actually wanted something. Surviving and being a shadow in other's people existence wasn't enough any longer.

Maybe… maybe she could be the woman she used to be once more.

But it was too soon to tell. After all, that wasn't the reason she was in California- even if she wondered if Annie's 18th birthday wasn't just an excuse, and she had wanted the job all along.

(Jane would tell her all about her subconscious, she was sure of it.)

She stood, and smiled gently at Abbott- she felt a bit like the serpent from the Bible, all lies and false smiles- and again she shook his hand, this time with the firm intention of parting. "I'll let you know in a couple of days. Now, sir, if you'll excuse me, I am supposed to meet my brother and my niece for brunch."

Outside the office, leaning against the secretary's desk, stood Jane. She gasped at his side- he was even better than the last time she had seen him. But it was natural, of course-no drenched clothes inside the FBI building. "Hello Lisbon, do you want a tour?" he asked, grinning. She made the mistake of looking at him, really, and she saw pure happiness- or at least, that was it looked like.

(It was hard to say. He had never been truly happy when they had worked together. Trapped in an hell created by Red John and himself that had lasted over a decade.)

"No, thanks, Jane. I am actually leaving" she blushed, and stepped into the elevator. He followed her, and leaned against the wall, whistling as nothing had happened, like the last two years hadn't passed. "Jane, there is no reason for you to follow me around. I haven't accepted the job yet."

Yet. He wanted to jump out of joy. He had never heard a more beautiful word. She was thinking about it- maybe they still had hope, to reach one day that understanding they had shared before Red John's downfall.

"This week it's Annabeth's birthday, right?" she looked at him, quizzically. "Having lunch with her and Tommy?"

She gasped, and then quickly recomposed herself. _Never show the enemy how weak you are_. "Brunch, actually. I am going to meet them."

"Can I come with you? I've always liked that girl." Teresa didn't have any doubt-after all, Annie was as old as his daughter, and she was a bit like him on a psychological level. Of course, the only difference was that Annie was a teenager, while Jane was close to fifty.

"If I were you, I wouldn't come. Unless your insurance covers also the cost of plastic surgery. Which you would need, were you to come with me." she smirked, dreamy, and Jane froze. But he guessed he deserved that. If Teresa hadn't talked about him very well after what had happened, it was more than right. He had abandoned her, after all. But sometimes he wondered if she understood that he had done it for her own good. How could have she lived on the run, far away from the people she loved? And the law would have tried to track them down by hurting her family, she wouldn't have been happy knowing- or even just suspecting- such a thing. She would have resented him, and he would have hated himself even more than what he already did.

"Besides, do you forget that you get paid to actually work? Cho told me that you weren't here when I met him in the hall. You can't already leave!" He smirked, and resisted the impulse of chuckling. Oh, she was already coming back, and she wasn't seeing it yet. She was already talking like she used to when he refused to leave the attic to work on any other case but Red John.

The elevator stopped, and she left, and when she realized that Jane wasn't following her, she turned, and their eyes met. He had a sad smile, and yet he seemed… hopeful, full of longing and desire. She desperately wanted to feel the same. She deserved more than a glass of wine or whisky in the evening, sleeping pills, solitude and arresting the drunken idiot of town. But she wasn't sure she still knew how. She was so, so scared. Could she survive another heartbreak? She didn't know.

But maybe… maybe it was worth it.


	5. Come Home

A/N:Thanks again for the reviews, the favorites and the alerts- that's what keep me motivated.

* * *

The cafe where Tommy had decided to meet her for brunch was small and reserved, nothing flashy; she liked the kind of place, familiar, without seeming too old, and yet it wasn't false vintage. She liked the atmosphere, it remembered her of the many places she had visited in her career as a cop, small diners in small cities that nobody knew of but were hundreds of times better than many L.A. places where celebrities could be spotted at any given hour.

She smiled as she looked for their faces in the crowd: her little brother knew her like nobody else did (except maybe Jane)- and she liked it. Tommy wasn't her favorite just because he was the youngest of the family, the one she had practically raised as her own child; he got her, and even when he didn't, he didn't question her.

"Aunt Reese! We are here!" Lisbon spotted two hands waiving at her in the crowd, and shined in happiness as she heard her niece's cheering voice; she joined them, and before she could get close to the table, Annie was already throwing her arms at her, squealing like she was a little child. She felt tears in her eyes-she hadn't seen her niece and her brother after she had left California, but she was glad that things hadn't changed that much. Even physically, Annie hadn't changed that much, her figure still belonging more to a teenager than to the woman she was slowly turning into. She bet that even Tommy was glad for this- as the aunt, he wanted his child to stay a baby as long as possible, and Tommy Lisbon knew that if his daughter wasn't anything like her aunt- and Annie idealized the sheriff so much she was Teresa's carbon copy- she would be soon surrounded by suitors. Right now Annie still preferred her guns, and he hoped it would be the case for a long time to come.

"Ehy, Annie, you'll kill me!" she said, living a wet, smacking kiss on the girl's face. She was her aunt, for God's sake- right now she wanted to indulge in this, and this only.

"Ah. I think we would be seeing more of you, if you were dead." Tommy tried to sound funny, but one look in his direction told her that her little brother was a bit annoyed with her. And she didn't blame him: for two years, she had just sparsely spoke over the phone with him.

(He didn't need to know that Annie kept calling her at least twice a week to keep tags on her favorite bad-ass aunt-who ruled, in her eyes, a whole town with her iron fist. Ah, to be young and naïve, and believe in everything the old Western movies showed…)

But then, as soon as their met, she saw something in him, a small change. He was looking at her quizzically, and then he smiled-that mischievous smile he had never lost, and kept from his childhood. What was wrong with him? Was it about her? She turned around and looked, just in case there was someone they knew there as well. God, no. She hoped Jane hadn't followed her. She didn't feel like being his personal right now.

But there was no one around- not that she knew, at least.

"Ok, what's going on?" She asked with her best authority. Was Tommy helping Jane? maybe they both wanted her there and were helping each other out. But then she dismissed the idea- Tommy was still mad with Jane, and her former's consultant nose was still in place. And Tommy hit like a professional boxer.

(After all, he had learnt everything he knew from her. Boxing and punching included.)

"Nothing." But he still had that mischievous smile. And she wanted to know why. There had to be a reason. And she wanted to know it. Now. And if Tommy didn't want to tell her what was going through that rock-hard head if his, she knew someone who was (probably) more willingly to answer her questions. And who answered better to bribery and blackmail.

"Annabeth, if you tell me what's going through your father's head, I will bring you to the firing range. Now, you have until the count of ten. One… two…" and she started counting, checking her watch like it was a chronometer.

Annie was already opening her mouth to speak, but Tommy stopped her, his open palm on her lips. He looked at Teresa rather annoyed- he didn't like his baby girl playing around with guns, even if it was better than the alternative, but if she had to, he was supposed to be the one having the idea, not his sister.

"You seem more relaxed. Even… happier, if I can dare to say so." He rolled his eyes, blushing, and Teresa wanted to chuckle-deep down, he was still a teenager boy, having troubles explaining his feelings and talking with girls-even if the aforementioned girl was his own sister. "You even seem younger. And, uhm, it's a compliment." God helped him if Teresa believed he was calling her old- she would have killed him before he could have realized what had hit him.

"Oh, well, thanks, I guess." She blushed, seeing a compliment when she got one, and gasped, as Tommy started to push her awkwardly and forcefully toward a small table in the corner, without even considering what she could want.

"Annie, honey, could you went to the aisle and gave our orders to the waitress? We'll wait for you back at the table. And, you know what? Wait for the food. We'll buy time that way." He smirked, and didn't listen to his daughter's protests or her grunts of indignity. Once the girl was out of sight and they were sitting at a small table in a corner, out of eyesight, Tommy started to look intensively at his knees, his voice low and serious. "Is it about Jane trying to get you your old job back?"

She sighed, her head almost hitting the desk. She didn't know if it was comical or what else. "Ugh. I should have known that would have looked for your help…." She didn't know what to think. Which one was more stupid, Jane for looking for Tommy's help, or Tommy, who had apparently believed whatever the blonde devil had told him? Unless the bastard had hypnotized her sweet and innocent little brother- and she wasn't going to put this past Jane. She had seen him doing worse.

"If it makes you feel better, I hit him. Hard. He spotted a nice black eye for a couple of weeks." Tommy smirked, his eyes again on his sister. "Seriously, Teresa, is it about Jane and the job offer?"

She shook her head, and refused to meet her brother's gaze. "Yes, no, maybe… I don't know. I'm just confused right now."

"Because you still love him?" she lifted her eyes, biting her lips, feeling guilty, like she had been just caught red-handed. "Ehy, c'mon. My ex-wife cheated on my with my best man since before we got married, and a part of me will always love her. If you still love the guy, it's just normal."

Teresa shook her head, running he fingers through her hair. She missed her old hair. Long and dark brown, while now she had settled with short and pitch black. God, she needed help, and to leave that damn small town that was driving her crazy. Who became a Goth over a middle-life crisis?

"It's different, Tommy. She is the mother of your child- of course you'll always love her a little! While Jane, Jane, Jane is…"

"Jane?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows quizzically. Smirking again like the cat who got the canary. "C'mon, Reese. You loved the guy because he was just like that. And if I got it without having you spelling it for me, it means that it was pretty obvious.".

She shook her head, breathing in heavily. She didn't know how to answer to this. Nor to his next statement.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he was doing it for you? Leaving, I mean…" he paused. "He always knew how much we care about each other. Maybe… he just didn't want to force us to part way. To put us in an awkward position with the government."

"Did he tell you so?" she asked, and then, Annie arrived with the food. Tommy grunted. He hoped that he would have been able to speak some more with his sister. "And anyway, I haven't decided anything yet."

"Does it mean you are considering the idea of moving back to California?" Annie asked, squealing. She looked like a fan-girl of one of those pop groups made of teenage boys. "That's so cool, aunt Reese! Did Mr. Jane convinced you to stay?"

Lisbon looked at her niece with lifted eyebrows of disapproval. "And did Mr. Jane tried to talk you into convincing me in staying here?"

"No, of course no, what are you thinking!" but the tone of the girl was as fake as the diamonds the girl was wearing- and she wasn't even trying to look like she was sincere. Lisbon wasn't surprised, though. Annie had always been Jane's best friend, and vice-versa.

"As I was telling your father, I haven't decided yet." She told him, faking seriousness. God, it was awful. She didn't know if she sounded more like Sister Mary from school or Fraulein Rottenmeier from Heidi.

"But you are thinking about it! Don't lie!" Tommy's joyful tone and his look of hope and expectation made her heart beat faster and faster. She could see his happiness, and Annie's as well, at the prospective at her having her back. She felt like crying, she wanted to hug them and cry and beg for forgiveness at the same time.

She couldn't believe she had gone on for so long without this. She longed for the love and affection of her family. She wanted this- and not the simple emptiness of her old life back in the East. How could have she been so stupid? Now she couldn't believe she had even thought about refusing Abbott's offer. Her mind should have known that once back she would have craved all these things.

She had fooled herself believing that the life she had built post-Jane was enough for her.

She wanted this, and so much more. And she was going to get it.

But only in due time. Without hurrying. And on her own terms.


	6. Feel Again

A/N:Thanks again for the reviews, the favorites and the alerts- that's what keep me motivated. If I haven't answered you yet, I will do it soon- I am sorry, but the site gave me some troubles lately.

A/N 2:even if the story has spoilers for 6.9 and is based on what little we know, bear in mind that it was written- this chapter as well- BEFORE 6.8 aired. So, there is no real spoiler for this, and it doesn't dwelve too much on those happenings. AKA: let's just pretend Jane left, the hows doesn't matter.

* * *

She went back to her own little town, and handed her deputy her resignations- Nate was more than ready to take her place, and now that he was going to start a family with his girlfriend, the (small) raise would do him good. Besides, the kid was even too good for this job. He was smart and talented, with room for improvement, of course, but he was good cop material. She wondered if telling him he was wasted there, but then decided against it- she did her choice, and so he would have, in due time. She simply hugged him and told him he could call her any time for whatever reason, whatever he needed. After all, he was like another little brother of hers.

Moving wasn't going to be an issue; her place was rented, she didn't have any furniture, the majority of her belongings were still closed in their cardboard boxes. Just like when she had left Sacramento, only so much more. She wondered what it meant, but then again, she knew it too well.

She didn't want to get attached.

Of course, the thought that she hadn't want to get attached because she missed her old life so much she couldn't even bear the thought never crossed her mind. But it was true- she had left so many thing behind, so much unfinished business, that she felt like a part of her had always wanted to come back. She had left her place to Tommy and Annie, all her pieces of furniture there. She had never unpacked, because deep down she had always known that it was just a stop-over. Her life wasn't there. it had never been what she had craved. Little she knew that what she had always wanted back then could be hers- and that she wanted it to.

She could have not yet a taste of a life with Jane where he is free from his demons (or at least, a good part of them) but the more she fought it, the more she wanted that life. That voice in her brain (and her heart) had been silent for too long. Then, when he had showed up at her doorstep, had been low. But it was determinate: and the more she wanted the shout it up, the more her conscience struggled to get free.

And free it got- now she was finishing packing her suitcase, ready to catch a plane and get back to Sacramento.

Maybe she should have never left, maybe she should have followed Jane that day, but she couldn't be too worried about it. She wanted to believe in the future, and having again hope and the will to live her life to the fullest. There was no room for regrets in her heart. After all, everything leaded her here.

And it couldn't be such a bad thing- not when she was so close to have everything she had always wanted, but pushed aside for the wellbeing of others. But maybe, just maybe, she could have it all. She could care for the others and make them happy-and be happy at the same time.

It was about time, and she well deserved it, after everything. They owed it to her- especially Jane. If he was going to make her any promises, this time he better kept them. Because she knew now that she could survive, move on with her life and be (eventually) happy. But she could never forgive him again. Not if her decided to go and break her heart another time.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

She didn't tell anyone she was going back to work (_on the job,_ at least); she was even reluctant to admit it to Tommy, at first. she wasn't sure she liked that her little brother (aka the one who should have always been on her side and her side alone) was talking _amicably _with Jane.

Jane, he was still _Jane _after all. She hadn't forgiven him yet, didn't know if she actually could-at least completely. But there was hope for starting over. But not now-not yet. She couldn't think about _him _and _the two of them _right now. It was what had gotten her into troubles in the first place. She had allowed him to consume her, her whole existence, and she had forgotten that there was life besides him. If she was going to give up already, she would be back to focus on him and him alone, and the few small steps she had taken towards healing, getting a life that was more than an empty existence, would have been nullified.

With a small smile- FBI didn't like smiles too much – and new clothes (ivory silky shirt, black pants, leather black jacket. And heeled shoes. Oh, she liked them all right.) she walked into the building and went straight to Abbott. He was nice with her (less nice than when they met few weeks before, but a decent example of a human being nevertheless, and anyway, he could be a sick bastard and a son of a bitch and he would be ten times better than the first time they met, two years before) but lost no time. He gave her badge and her gun- same model she used to have at CBI, a Glock 22- and didn't wait for her to put it the holster to ask her to follow him. This time they didn't take the elevator- turned out his office was on the same floor as Cho and company's unit- and without too many preambles he introduced her to the staff. Even if it could be an exaggeration to call that an introduction.

"Ladies and Gentleman, this is Agent Teresa Lisbon. Miss Lisbon. From now on, she'll be part of your team." and this was it. She blushed the whole time- she never liked being at the center of attention- and thought about shaking Cho's hand for a moment. But then she decided against it- it would be too awkward. He simply patted her on the back, and she did the same with his shoulder. It was a bit more friendly, and yet not too much friendly. She shook hands with Kim Fisher, instead- cold and strong and filled with rage. Fished didn't like her, and Lisbon couldn't help but wonder why- Jane, the past, the present or what else? But she didn't have time to dwell on the past. Cho showed her the desk she was supposed to use, and smiling, she noticed that it was close to a brown leather couch -it's _his brown _leather couch, the one from the CBI.

(She wondered where "her" couch could be. Did he make sure he was well-kept too? Did maybe Tommy had it? Or maybe someone from the team- she could see Grace breast-feeding the twins on it. If it was with someone they loved, someone they cared for and who cared for them in return, she could live with it.)

Jane wasn't on there- but it was no surprise, if he always showed up at the same he did the last time she had been there- so she waited patiently for his arrival. She didn't want to seem too eager to see him, nor too happy to be back. She didn't want for him to believe that she was there just for him (even if he had a good, big part in it) and she hoped she could kind of surprise him. So, instead of putting things on her desk, or pictures or whatever, she just sat there, reading a manual and checking if there were already forms to fill. Just, casually. But he didn't show up. Abbott did- with a case. He gave them instructions, filled them in on the details. Then, he asked Fisher to interview a person of interest, and tell her to go with Cho if Jane's not available- which he wasn't.

At ten to ten (two hours after the start of his shift) he finally showed up. He strolled towards his couch, but as she was going to catch the elevator and leave, she saw him- and Cho too (and even Cho smiled. He was grinning. Her former second in command, now partner/almost boss was grinning).

"Gonna check a couple of things on the net. See what people says about this murder in the chat-rooms and forums. See you later if you don't kill Jane first."

She shook her head, laughing (she missed laughing. Missed Cho. Missed this. She couldn't believe she was going to give up) and then turned in Jane's general direction, wondering if he knew already, because, if he didn't, he was up for an hell of a surprise. "Ehy, Jane, Abbott wants us to interrogate the partner!" She shouted from her spot. And it was in that instant that she realized he didn't know it.

He stood still, and then, slowly, almost as he was scared, like he feared she was going to disappear, he turned, and looked at her from afar. She could see his eyes shining with tears- and she didn't know if it broke her heart or if it made her happy, to see him so moved by her sudden reappearance in his life- and he walked towards her so slowly, like he thought it was all a dream and he didn't want for it to end so soon.

(She didn't want to cry-couldn't. Better not show Jane how much power he had over her-he already thought he had her under his spell as it was. All in due time.)

They were one before the other, eye to eye, and yet, despite what she wanted to do, despite her best intentions, she smiled at him (not carefully, but shining, like she was emanating light from within. Because she was just too happy, and it was too good. And how many timed had she seen Jane so out of it? And it was all for her. _Because _of her) and lifted his hand to ouch her. But he stopped, like he was scared.

(Was he still scared it was all a dream?)

"So, you in or what? Last time I checked, you get paid to _work _on cases, not get lost staring in the void." She told him, quite stern, hands in the pockets of her jacket. And finally, he smiled- lowering his hand, there was no reason any longer to touch her to make sure she was alive and real and just _there._

"Oh, c'mon woman, you know I was born ready" he chuckled, and helped her into the elevator, one hand on the small of her back. His touch isn't unwelcomed any longer, like few weeks before when he showed up at her doorstep. She shivered, felt hot and cold at the same time. In such a pleasuring way she was almost sad when they reached the ground floor and they had to part. "By the way, as you haven't been assigned a vehicle yet, I think I'll drive this time around."

She grunted in a totally un-lady like manner (she still remembered his driving skills) but lifted her eyebrows in curiosity and yes, appreciation as well, when they reached a car- and what a car. Sporty. Flashy. Quick. And New (or at least, newer than the Citroen). She could get used to this. She could probably fall for "new Jane" as she did for the old one. She whistled in appreciation, and he grinned like the Cheshire cat, and her heart melt. She would cry if he wasn't there, because she missed him, missed all of this. And suddenly it hit her: he had never fooled her. He had ben always (well.. often, Especially in the last couple of years) honest with her, never hid what he was planning. She had fooled herself- once when she had thought she could change him just like that, twice when she believed that she was done for good and she wanted to waste her life being a shadow.

But now, she was done with this. It was time to rise and shine, show the world who she was- and moreover, show it to herself.

(She had always been her own worst enemy, after all.)

As Jane changed the gear (European car, a bit old-fashioned. But never as the Citroen. Did he still have it? She could get used to it, but that pale blue trap was always going to have a special place in her heart), she skimmed over his skin. He turned to look at her, smiling- and he looked like a damn angel, with the light from the outside forming like an halo around his wild curls- and he got the message. They had never needed too many words between them. And two years didn't change it.

(Nothing could ever change it.)

She couldn't be there yet-too much water under the bridge and all that jazz- but one day she was going to. It wasn't like she just _wanted _it. It was like a pathological need (he was under her skin. Had been since day one, probably). She just needed a bit more of time, but she was going to be there. And she knew he was going to wait for her-because he wanted to walk the rest of the way along with her. It was the only thing he had ever wanted. His only thought in those two lonely years. He wanted her back.

And now, here they were. Right where they had always been supposed to be.

(Almost.)


	7. Marching On

A/N:Thanks again for the reviews, the favorites and the alerts- that's what keep me motivated.

A/N 2:even if the story has spoilers for 6.9 and is based on what little we know, bear in mind that it was written- this chapter as well- BEFORE 6.8 aired. So, there is no real spoiler for this, and it doesn't dwelve too much on those happenings. AKA: let's just pretend Jane left, the hows doesn't matter.

A/N 3: chapters and story title from One repubblic discography.

* * *

Sometimes Lisbon blessed Jane's abilities, and the fact that he knew – and understood – when and how he was supposed to make a certain move or not. She was glad for their (silent) understanding that she wasn't to be rushed (nor used) again; it felt like a confirmation that he was going to be there, and that, this time, he was willingly to wait for her. In her more hormonal days, though, she was also made with him for the same reason; Jane wasn't supposed to just look at her and understand what was going through her mind; when they were alone in the car, on their way to a crime scene, she screamed at him for not _asking her _how she actually felt and what was wrong, just to scream at him some more when he actually asked afterward (only because she had asked him to) or when he asked first thing (because he wasn't supposed to ask, as he was supposed to know her better than anyone else). But then, at the end of the day, they just laughed and smiled about it- after all, this was how things had always been between them; it was their old routine, the past catching up with them in a nice way.

They weren't exactly dating, but they had a silent understanding that they weren't going to look for anyone else. They weren't going to label their relationship, not at this point, when they hadn't even kissed yet, and they knew that, even when they would become a "real" couple, they weren't going to. Boyfriend and girlfriend seemed childish, and they were both close to fifty, but "engaged", "fiancé" and "fiancée" were too serious as well. They weren't even sure if they actually wanted to get married. They hadn't talked about it, but they both knew that none of them was into labels and contracts (not any longer, at least; Jane had gotten married only because Angela had insisted; besides, back then the law wasn't as nice as right now with unmarried couples, nor with their children). But it didn't mean that Jane wasn't giving a good read at the rulebook, looking for a way out in case things deepened between the two of them.

(Teresa loved this job too much to leave it, especially when she had just gotten it back; he wasn't going to take it away from her; he, on the other side, didn't mind being a stay-at-home husband.)

They weren't even thinking about moving things along beside the casual dinner or drink or movie, not until they found a small boy.

They stumbled over Francisco on a ruthless crime scene; his mother, an illegal immigrant, had been killed by a cartel after she had rebelled against them, and she had been able to hide him from her killers. The boy hadn't seen his mother's murder, but had listened to the whole thing. Jane had been the one discovering his presence, but only Lisbon's soothing voice got him to leave his hiding place. He was a black-hired, green eyed boy of five, and he didn't know a word of English.

Teresa talked with him in Spanish (she smiled proudly as she realized that Jane was surprised by this bit of information) and he went into her arms, refusing to leave her side for even just a moment (no wonder- he was traumatized, and besides, she looked a bit like his mother. And she had something that inspired love and affection and trust. People felt loved by her, and felt the need to love her back.). She never left his side, not for the two weeks of the investigation, and when the social worker came to took him, she faked strength in front of him, but as soon as she was with Jane, she cried in his shirt, until she didn't fall asleep on her couch.

(It was_ her_ couch- he had found a way to keep it).

It wasn't just for Francisco-yes, she loved the kid, and would have loved to keep him with her, but it was also the knowledge that it was something that couldn't be any longer. She had always believed that she would have been all right with a family of only two, but now she was discovering that she craved at least a family of three. Giving birth was out of the question- she wasn't going to risk her life, the life of a baby, force nature for her greed – and if she wanted a baby of her own- a child- they were going to try for adoption.

_If_ he wanted to be a father again.

I_f _they got married first.

_If _one of them decided to leave the job.

Starting a family wasn't just about her. She had to get Jane involved first, and they weren't even dating properly (even if he said they were). And even if she decided to do it on her own, he still counted- what was going to do, present herself with the whole package without thinking about him as well?

They fell asleep together (something that they had never done before) on the couch, and the next day, he talked Abbott in given them a free day; he prepared her a rich breakfast, and when she tried to talk him into jogging or running, he walked her into the bathroom, and got a nice, long, hot bat ready for her. She kissed him, languidly and long, at the corner of his mouth, and Jane wanted to lose all control, make her his, forget about being a gentleman and all his plans and just take her then and there, on the bathroom floor, but when he tried to deepen the contact and his hands went looking for her fly, she gently (and sensually) pushed him away. He left the bathroom with a smirk-he was glad she was like that. She didn't know a thing about his plan, and yet she was the one who was silently talking him into following it.

He went to her room, and searched between her clothes, hoping to find something suitable. He did, a knee-length summer imperial dress with a (quite deep) V neckline, short sleeves, white with a peacock-like print. He wondered when Teresa had taken it, and for whom. There was still the price tag, and he recognized the boutique as one who used to be close to the CBI- and that didn't exist any longer. She had taken it years before, and had never wore it.

Was it for him, for Walter, someone else or maybe for herself? He clenched the soft material in his fists, thinking about Teresa sharing her body and her life with another man. He had tried to give her away, talk her into moving on, but at the end, he had been too self-centered, and now he wanted all for himself, and himself alone. Now, though, it didn't matter any longer. Now Teresa was his, and he just had to concentrate on keeping her, and making her happy at the same time. Something that his plan was going to make sure of.

He shook his head, and found matching shoes- ivory semi-high heels- and purse, and he even dared to look for underwear (ivory silk and lace, clasp on the front, no straps, feminine and sexy in that innocent kind of way, nude look thigh highs- she never liked shoes without stockings of any kind. Shoes tended to hurt her feet.) and added a little something, a pair of emerald-likes stud earrings that went along with her shorter hair.

"Are we going somewhere?" he turned, and saw her, with only a towel around her slim and toned body, and again he felt his self-control lacking him; he shook his head, wondering if Teresa was trying to seduce him, or if it was a test of some kind.

"Uhm, yeah. We have a reservation for The Firehouse this evening."

She froze, and the towel almost fell on the ground. Jane groaned out of despair. He had wanted for the towel to fall. Except for the women on the beach during his two years hiatus in South America (which he hadn't given attention to) and few murder victims (which he had no interest for), the last women he had seen naked was Lorelai Martins, and he guessed it was about time to remedy that. With someone who mattered, this time.

"The Firehouse is the most expensive restaurant in town!" She gasped, struggling with the words. It wasn't like she didn't want to go there- but going to a Michelin- starred restaurant for dinner was even more than a date. People went there for anniversaries. For engagements. Weddings. and they hadn't kissed yet. It was too much.

"Would you prefer Morton's, Lisbon?" he grinned, and she wanted to hit him- and she would have, if not for the towel she was holding. Morton was better. It was a steak house. It was nice, but not too demanding. She could do it- _they _could do it.

Even if she didn't see any sense in living now- at half past eleven- if they had a reservation for dinner. But it was Jane, after all. She didn't know why she was surprised any longer. Or why she questioned his evident lack of sanity in every-day matters. "Well, I'd say it's a yes, from your reactions." He chuckled.

"We're going to miss lunch, right? That's why you gave me all those stuff…" her eyes fell on the dress on her bed, and instead of thinking _I am going to kill Jane because he went through my clothes and _underwear what she had in mind was _Thank god I lost weight because otherwise, after this huge breakfast, I could never fit in that dress_. That alone spoke volumes of how their relationship had changed since day one (or even just her return).

"Get dressed, I need to change as well. I'll wait for you downstairs, but hurry up- we have an appointment in half an hour" he gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek, and the he fled the room. When she reached him, few minutes later, he was by the door, checking his watch, dressed in yet another brand new suite (this time another 3 pieces), light grey, with a red tie and shiny shoes. He had even tamed his hair-which she wasn't so happy about. She liked it wild.

They didn't talk as he drove in one of his sport cars, they kept in silence, Jane humming along the jazz station, Lisbon looking at him, wondering what he could be up to. Was it about a case? She didn't remember any open case that could require an undercover stunt, but with Jane, she could never be sure-his mind worked differently from any other one.

He parked close to the Capitol building, and Lisbon felt fear running through her veins, but then she looked at Jane, and it was enough to reassure her that he wasn't up to anything bad; he took her hand in his own, a gesture they often did while walking in the Sacramento parks in the evenings, and decided to go along with him. Who knew, maybe it could even be fun- and not dangerous or career- endangering.

"What are we doing at the capitol building?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows. And yet, she was smiling- his favorite look on her- and he saw how much she trusted him in that moment. It filled his heart with joy and hope, and with teary eyes, he decided to stop wasting time, that he couldn't wait any longer, and he kissed her- an Hollywood long, passionate, hot and yet sweet, kiss.

"I love you, you know it, right?" he said, out of breath. She looked in his eyes and remembered his teachings, and laughed, unable to resist. _When someone see something they want, their pupils dilate._ She wondered if he had been talking about her and Walter back then, or if it had been an admission, in the vain hope that she could start looking at his eyes and see the desire then, taking the first step. But did she really want to dwell on the past? She wasn't supposed to care about it any longer. She wanted to enjoy the here and now. And march on. 

"Well, I'm glad. As I happen to love you too." She smiled again, shining like an angel, an holy apparition of some kind, and gave him a quick peck on the lips (it was even better than the kiss he had initiated) and the took again his hand in her own. "So, where to?"

"The Capitol building. We have an appointment in ten minutes. We're gonna be late if we don't hurry!" he laughed, and run with her- God and Jane blessed for the not so high heels- and then they entered, walking orderly, in the Capitol building. Jane kept holding her hand, and guided her. But, the longer they were inside, the more nervous he looked. And she didn't know why (she hoped it wasn't a break up- he has kissed her only twice. Could they actually break up after two kisses? She hoped not).

"Ok, here we are." They entered in an elegant room, huge and in Imperial French style; it was filled with smart chairs, and in front of them, there was a long table. There wasn't a lot of people, just five or six of them in the front row, and another couple of them sitting at the table.

"Jane, what's going on?" She asked him. She was holding his elbow like for dear life. She was starting to get scared. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe he really was up to something bad or shady.

"It's nothing bad, I promise you." He told her, smiling. And strangely, it was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen on him. God, when he looked at her like that, she melted. It looked like she could make him the happiest man alive.

Hang on one second… Did she really say _The happiest man alive? _People usually used that expression for… and there was no way that Jane was going to… because a sane person would never… it was, just crazy and… Ah, all right. She was talking about _The _Patrick Jane, after all. Yes, her idea wasn't that crazy. It was possible. Actually, she was quite sure it was the case.

She grunted, and looked closely at the people in the front row- even if she could only see the back of their heads, there was a red-head with a twin carrier, a tall black-haired man sitting next to her, a semi-bald man at her other side with a lady next to him, another man, another tall, black-haired man with a teen girl, a huge man and a woman who seemed Afro-American.

"Jane, tell me you didn't…" she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed.

"Invited our old team, Tommy and Annie, Hightower, LaRoche, Virgil and May because I want to propose to you here and marry you in the next few minutes?" she looked at him like she wanted to incinerate him. "Yes, I did. So, what about it?" He was proud and arrogant as he admitted his little plan, and before she could realize what was happening he took a dark green velvet purse from his jacket pocket, and emptied it in his palm; there were three rings, an engagement ring in yellow with a small emerald in the middle and two diamonds at its side, and two white gold rings. They were wedding bands, with Celtic love knots on the inside and an engraving- it seemed Irish- on in inside.

"So, tell me, Teresa Lisbon, will you marry me, and consider the idea of adopting our dear Francisco together? I promise you I'll be the best stay at home husband you have ever met. I'll even keep out of troubles."

She took a big breath, and smiling, she took his hand in her own, the metal of the rings cold against her skin, and yet they were warming her up. She walked towards her family- because that was what they were, even if she had tried to forget it- and took the marriage bouquet from Annie's hands, prompting the girl to stay at her side at the altar, like her maid of honor. When she reached the table, Jane was already there with Cho, and as he put the rings on her finger and she did the same, for the first time in a long time- if not in her whole life- she felt sure of herself and of his love for her. They were one thing only- and Jane was a man who believed completely in marriage, a man who, when he committed, he did it to the fullest. He wasn't going to leave her again. Never, ever.

Her life and her dream and her family were almost complete- now at night she could close her eyes and dream, dream of the two of them on a sunny beach, with a little Mexican boy running towards them- his mum and his dad.

Yes. Forgiving him and coming back had been worth it- even enduring all that pain. Because, after all, it was what had brought them there. Where they had always been supposed to be.


End file.
